


A Story of A Selkie & An Unintentional Proposal

by ajeepandleather



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Creature Stiles, Deputy Derek Hale, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Selkie Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Derek, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 17:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13529517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajeepandleather/pseuds/ajeepandleather
Summary: For the prompt of Person A accidentally proposing to Person B (who is a selkie) by returning their pelt





	A Story of A Selkie & An Unintentional Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like it and I can't wait to update Spouse House Trivia real soon!

Derek was just trying to get some coffee. The morning had been long, running errands for everyone in the department while trying to survive his rookie status. 

 

He got the worst patrols, whether that be because they were horribly boring or because he had to deal with the calls that no one else wanted. That meant he had four slashes on his forearm from an unruly cat and a vomit stain on his shoulder when a flustered mother handed him a baby as he investigated a noise complaint. The kid had some  _ lungs _ . 

 

He really just wanted the most caffeinated and sugary drink you could legally order so he could take it back to his patrol car for a well earned lunch break. He’s on his way out with four shots of espresso and three pumps of hazelnut when he bumps into a chair, knocking a coat off the back of it. He looks down and stoops to pick it up, soft as butter between his fingers. It’s glossy fur that shines pleasantly in the light and feels warm, warm enough to be alive. 

 

“Oops, I dropped your coat,” Derek smiles at the man that turns around, but freezes when he catches wide honey eyes. The man is stunning, with a mop of dark hair and little beauty marks dotting the pale skin of his cheek like constellations. His lips look soft and inviting where they hang, slightly parted as he stares up at Derek. He blushes under his gaze and waves, a small wiggle of fingers before walking over to a little bistro table thinking maybe he could stay for a little while. 

 

It isn’t even two minutes later that a pair of rough looking Converse make their way into his view. Their black and crusted with what looks like salt and Derek wonders what the man does to have shoes like that. He looks up when it’s undeniable that this person is right next to him and looking for someone of him. 

 

“I . . . You . . . Hi.” Derek meets the beautiful man’s gaze again, chuckling lightly at his fumbling. 

 

“Hello,” Derek replies. The man is wearing the coat from earlier, and maybe it should look strange on anyone else, a fur coat isn’t exactly fashionable anymore, but he looks like he lives in it. It fits the shape of his broad shoulders and narrow waist, a seamless fit with his jeans and pain t-shirt. 

 

“I . . . Would- I mean, may I sit, with you?” The man is blushing and flustered and Derek finds it terribly endearing. Being this close, Derek can smell the scents of saltwater and sunshine, it reminds Derek of pack outing to the beach and it sets him at ease. 

 

“Sure, I would like that.” The man smile bashfully and sits across from him, setting his mug of black coffee onto the table. “My name is Derek.”

 

“Derek,” The man says slowly, like his testing the feel of the name on his tongue and it sends a shiver down his spine. “I’m Stiles.” 

 

“Stiles,” Derek smiles, nodding like that’s a perfect name. “It’s very nice to meet you.” Stiles blushes, ducking his head and glancing up at Derek from under his eyelashes, their dark and thick and make Derek think of how girls may kill for such nice, natural lashes. 

 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Stiles replies, but the last word is cut off by Derek’s radio crackling to life, 

 

“10-66 at First Bank on 15th Street. I need a unit in the area.” Derek’s mind rushes with the information, realizing he’s only a block away. 

 

“This is Officer Hale, 10-76. Over.” Derek looks up at Stiles and smiles apologetically. “I’m sorry but i have to go.” He stands, adjusting his utility belt on his waist as he goes.

 

“Of course, yes. I’ll see you again soon?” Stiles looks up at him with big eyes and there’s no way anyone could resist such a face. 

 

“I’m at the station most of the time, and I don’t really do much else but I mean, I would have time after work, but I’m at work a lot. But I’m not a workaholic! I’m just new, you know, and trying to make my place in the department and I really need to go.” Stiles is giggling at this point and the sound is almost whimsical. 

 

“I’ll see you soon, Derek,” Stiles waves as he walks away and Derek feels warm in his chest. 

 

***

 

Derek spends the next two days thinking of Stiles and his bright eyes and the smell of the ocean. He calls Laura the night he went to the coffee shop and talks about when they were little and would go to Beacon Cove with the pack. Laura sounds suspicious as to why he would be talking about it so out of the blue but Derek ignores it in favor of reminiscing. 

 

“We should do that again, have you taken Lily to the Cove before?” Derek asks, thinking of watching his niece play in the water like they used to. Maybe they could do a pack outing again, make a day trip of it, he’s missed his family with all the work he’s trying to keep up with. 

 

“No, the last time I went it was with Andrew for our first anniversary,” Laura’s voice has grown softer, like her brother’s as the confusion fades. 

 

“Mom, would hate that we just stopped going, you know. We used to go nearly every week over summer.” Laura huffs a laugh, somber and fond. Their mother’s passing had been hard, even harder on Laura as alpha power swallowed her, with a new child, not even two years old and having to run a pack on top of it all. Their human father had passed just a year before and they knew their mother’s time was limited. Mates were a tricky thing like that, but she had been at peace with it and trusted them to take the lead in her stead.

 

“We haven’t gone since Cora graduated high school.” Laura agrees. “I’ll bring it up at the next pack meeting.”

 

“Thanks, Laura.” He sighs, relaxing back into his couch, the apartment around him quiet. 

 

“Love you, Der.” 

 

“Love you, too.” 

 

***

 

“Hale! There’s someone at the front desk for you.” Derek perks up from his desk, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Deputy Parrish. The hellhound was a recent addition to the pack, found by Laura in the Preserve one night, eyes ablaze and unsure of what he was. Laura had a soft spot for strays, just like their father.

 

“Skinny kid with Bambi eyes? Says he needs you specifically.” Jordan shrugs and moves one, apparently unaware of how Derek’s heart rate has picked up. It’s Stiles, he sniffs as discreetly as he can manage and picks up on the salt and sun scent. 

 

“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” Jordan nods and goes to his desk while Derek takes a moment to compose himself. He stands and walks to the front desk and inhales sharply at the sight. Stiles is wearing a pale yellow button down and nice black jeans. HIs hair looks styled and the fur coat is even shinier than a few days ago. 

 

“Hi, Derek.” Stiles smiles big and yet shy all at once and Derek wants to wrap him up in a hug and hold him tight. 

 

“Hi, Stiles. What are you doing here?” He asks as politely as he can, making sure Stiles knows he isn’t mad or upset that he’s here.

 

“I wanted to ask if you would go to dinner with me.” Stiles is grinding the toe of his salt crusted shoe in to the carpet, not meeting Derek’s eyes as his cheeks redden adorably. He notes the lightly stilted way Stiles speaks and it makes derek think that maybe English isn’t Stiles’ first language. Derek hears Tara, the front desk worker suppress a giggle before excusing herself to go talk probably to Allison and Mary about the newest gossip unfolding. 

 

“Oh, yes, I would love to, Stiles.” Stiles perks up at that, his smile blindingly bright. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet now, looking excited and enamoured and Derek blushes, having never been on the receiving end of such enthusiasm. Sure, there were plenty of hot looks and eager hands in his lifetime, but enver someone so purely excited to take him on a date. 

 

“That’s great! I, oh, when do you get off of work?” Stiles asks, taking a small step forward, his scent wafting over even more strongly and Derek wants to melt into it. He mimics the move and subtly as he can takes a quick sniff, noting the tang of lemon and sweet like brown sugar melting. 

 

“My shift ends at five. I can meet you at six thirty? So I can shower and change.” 

 

“Yes, of course. May I pick you up?” Derek can’t stop the fond smile that spreads across his face when Stiles looks up at him from just the two little inches Derek has over him. Derek feels bold and reaches for Stiles’ hand, marveling at the long fingers and strong palm. He’s cold, but Derek is happy to spare his excess heat to warm him up. 

 

“Sure, give me you phone. You can have my number and address.” Derek’s smile widens as Stiles fumbles for his phone, in the opposite back pocket of the hand he has free. He obviously doesn’t want to let go as much as Derek. Derek programs his contact one handed and hands it back. 

 

“Thank you,” Stiles says a little breathless. Derek’s heart is still pounding in his chest and he listens, catching Stiles’ matching rhythm. He’s still bouncing a bit but he smells content and excited, like a summer storm over the shore, lightning and damp sand, promising big surf and the sound of water crashing against the rocks. 

 

“I’ll see you later,” Derek says quietly, leaning in close and pressing a quick peck to Stiles’ cheek, making the young man gasp quietly. Derek leans back and sees Stiles’ eyes are a little glazed and there’s a smile that seems permanently etched into his face as Derek backs away, regretful that he has to get back to work. 

 

“Bye, Derek.” Stiles waves as he watches Derek leave. 

 

***

 

_ Im downstairs _ the text says, flashing up at Derek who’s still agonizing over what shirt to wear. He knew the moment Stiles arrived, the scent of salt and sun too familiar to him already, drifting up the two floors to reach him faintly. 

 

Derek huffs as he compares the two shirt he holding up in the mirror. Cora always said he looked best in maroon so he tosses the blue button up aside and pulls on the deeply colored sweater, slipping his thumbs into the holes of this sleeve. He rushes to the bathroom, making sure his hair hasn’t been messed up in the two minutes since he last checked it and calls it good. Grabbing his phone, wallet and keys he heads out. 

 

Stiles is waiting for him in the lobby of his apartment building, hands in his lap and tapping his foot. Derek can scent the nerves on him and the urge to hug him into calm returns with a vengeance 

 

“Hi,” Derek cringes at his own lameness but Stiles doesn’t seem to care, if the way he bounces out of his seat and steps forward with that dazzling smile is anything to go off of. 

 

“Derek! You look lovely,” Stiles says, eyelashes fluttering. Derek is caught by the statement, unfamiliar by the phrasing. Sure, he’s been complimented, told how “hot” and attractive he is, and on one memorable occasion when a woman, who was mildly tipsy at the time, leaned in to tell him how “devastatingly handsome” he was. Lovely was never a word that came up. He blushes and feels it in the tips of his ears. “Oh, you are very cute.” Stiles coos, smiling as the blush spreads even warmer across his cheeks. 

 

“You look amazing, as well. I didn’t get to tell you when you came to the station.” Derek tells him, unwilling to be the absolute center of attention. “You’re jacket is nice as well.” Stiles seems to preen when Derek says this, reminding him of whenever Isaac compliments Cora’s fur when she shifts fully. 

 

“We should go now, I have our table reserved.” Stiles reaches out, offering Derek his hand. He gladly accepts it to be lead out to the street. They don’t go to a car or wave down a taxi, simply walk down the street, hand in hand. It’s the nicest date Derek has ever been on and it’s barely begun. 

 

“Where are we headed?” Derek asks, not uncomfortable with the silence, but wanting to know.

 

“It’s a surprise,” Stiles whispers like it’s a secret between children under a blanket fort. 

 

“Okay,” Derek smiles. “Where are you from? You’re voice is different.” Stiles looks up at him and smiles lightly. 

 

“I was raised by the shore. My mother lived in the ocean, loved the sea and my father was a fisherman. I was homeschooled, maybe that is why I sound different.” Stiles explains and Derek nods along, that made sense with his scent. “What about you, are you from Beacon Hills?”

 

“Born and raised and not going anywhere.” Derek shrugged, his pack was here, there was no way he could leave for long. He was Laura’s second and there was no place he could ever picture himself being. “College was torture, having to be gone for so long without seeing my family.” Stiles hums and Derek is pleased that he doesn’t seem as incredulous as other humans who don’t feel as connected to family like a werewolf. 

 

“My father and I are very close, we have always lived together and I don’t think there will ever be a day where I don’t think of him. He’s all I have.” Stiles’ mood is sombered and Derek picks up on the meaning, knows his mother must have passed. 

 

“Both my parents passed recently, I don’t think I go a few days without thinking of them or talking to my sisters. Family is important.” Stiles beams at him as they pull to a stop. Derek looks up and gasps. 

“Stiles, this is the  _ Le Fumoir _ .” Stiles chuckles lightly.

 

“I am glad you can read, Derek. Literacy is very important.” 

 

“But Stiles -”

 

“No, no, don’t be concerned. I wanted this to be special. You are special, Derek.” Derek’s stomach flips and he’s helpless but to be lead inside. Stiles tells the hostess his last name and they’re lead to a table, lit by a small lamp on the wall, shining cutlery and fabric napkins. Derek has never been taken somewhere so nice on a date, let alone a first date. 

 

“You’re something special, Stiles Stilinski,” Derek says, staring unashamedly at the an across from him as the waiter places menus in front of them. The man blushes, eyelashes fluttering and heart skipping about. 

 

The meal passes perfectly. They talk and enjoy their food, sharing from their plates and discuss everything from their time in school to what they like to do in their free time. Derek learns Stiles is a talented swimmer and when he transferred to a public high school he was the star swimmer at Beacon Hills High, just a year after Derek had graduated. Stiles tells him about studying Marine Biology at UC Davis before coming home, hoping to start a small sea life museum to educate Beacon Hills. 

 

“Would you like to accompany me on a walk?” Stiles asks quietly when the bill is settled and they’re outside once more. 

 

“I would love to,” Derek assures him, taking his hand in his own. They walk in the quiet of the night for a while, eventually reaching the park. Derek hears Stiles’ heart rate pick up in speed and the nerves return to his scent but he’s undeniably excited. Derek decides not to question it and follows his lead to the little fountain in the middle of the park. Derek takes a seat on the edge and smiles as Stiles fiddles with his jacket pulling something small out of the pocket. 

 

“Derek Hale, I would be honored if you would accept this token of my affection and bond to you.” Stiles says, slowly dropping to one knee, wobbling a bit on the way down. Derek’s eyes nearly bulge out of his skull when he realizes the small thing in Stiles’ hand is a box, opened to reveal a artfully twisted ring, set with three small pearls. 

 

“Is that an engagement ring?” Derek’s voice squeaks like an adolescent boy’s. 

 

“Well… We… We should get married by human customs as well.” 

 

“ _ What. _ ” Derek’s heart is in his throat and hammer away like it’s trying to escape. 

 

“I realize that, maybe, there are werewolf traditions but I do not believe I know those well enough -”

 

“WHAT.” Derek thinks he might pass out with how his heart is rushing blood to his head and all he can concentrate on is  _ not passing out. _

 

“You . . . Derek, you returned my pelt to me . . . you, well, you proposed.” Stiles says, pulling the ring box closer to his chest slowly, the longer it goes without being taken. His eyes are big and Derek can scent the panic and rising hurt on the man. It smells like the way seaweed bakes in the sun and starts to rot. 

 

“Your pelt?” Derek is trying to piece the facts together. It’s slowly coming back to him, after years of reading with Peter to prepare him to be Laura’s second, the pieces are falling together. “You’re a selkie.”

 

Stiles is looking down at the ground, gripping the ring box with white knuckle, nods solemnly. Derek has calmed enough that he’s noticing the shiny streak on Stiles’ cheeks and instantly jumps into action.

 

“Oh, no, Stiles, don’t cry.” He’s kneeling in front of the man and pulls him close, pushing his wet face into the crook of his neck. “I’m not rejecting you, just surprised, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know what it meant and I was surprised is all, you’re okay, love.” Stiles sniffles into his neck, pressing his chilly nose into the skin. Derek feels it tingle down his spine and inhales from the crown of Stiles’ head the fulfilling scent of sea and sweet brown sugar, the hurt slowly fading. 

 

“Are you rejecting my proposal?” Stiles asks, voice so timid and soft it physically hurts in Derek’s chest. 

 

“No, of course not, Stiles.” Derek kisses the man’s hair, “Maybe we could go on a few more dates, though? First, meet the family, get to know each other?” Stiles looks up shyly, blinking rapidly. The last of his tears slipping out and down high cheekbones and over the constellations. 

 

“I would like that very much.” He nods, smiling slowly. It’s a small thing but Derek’s heart swells. He leans forward, brushing their noses together before kissing Stiles slowly. It’s just lips moving against each other but Stiles whimpers softly, clinging to Derek. And Derek will admit he returns the sentiment, his wolf howling happily, practically prancing with joy as he holds Stiles close. 

 

***

 

“Oh, you must be Derek’s special selkie,” Laura says adoringly when she opens the front door of the Hale House. Stiles bows his head bashfully as Derek leads him with a hand on his lower back inside. 

 

“Laura,” Derek growls warningly making Stiles giggle. 

 

“What? He’s adorable, lil bro. I love him already.” To prove her point she wraps Stiles up in a tight hug and presses her cheek to the side of his head, rubbing back and forth. Stiles just about melts into the Alpha’s embrace and Derek’s wolf purrs with his Alpha’s approval of his ma- boyfriend. He isn’t sure he’s ready for the mate talk. 

 

“It is nice to meet you, Alpha Hale.” Stiles is blushing when he’s released, hair mussed and eyes bright. “My father will be joining us soon.”

 

“Oh,  _ and  _ he’s polite? He’s got me sold.” Laura jokes, leading them to the kitchen, “And Stiles? You can call me Laura. You’re basically engaged to Der anyways.” She winks as they both blush. Derek remembers two months ago when he explained to Laura what happened and she laughed so hard Andrew had to rescue the phone and inform Derek she fell off the couch.

 

“So, Stiles, do you have a pod?” Isaac asks, handing a peeled potato to Cora to cut up in to small pieces to boil. 

 

“Not in the traditional sense. My mother willfully left her pod to marry my father, so technically I have one out there, but I don’t know them. I consider my father my pod.” Stiles says, reaching for the wooden spoon that Cora had been using to stir the boiling potatoes. Derek marvels at how well he slips into the pack, efficient and right just like he belongs. 

 

“Is your father supernatural?” Jordan asks, pulling Derek from his stupor of staring at Stiles to help him slice vegetables. 

 

“No, he is human. He taught me much of human customs as my mother taught me about selkies.” Stiles explains how he was home schooled for many years, but content with the quiet life he had lived on the beach shores. 

 

“Is it strange that your father is a fisherman?” Cora asks, face scrunched a bit, likely thinking she may have crossed an invisible line, 

 

“Not at all. I am a predator and it’s not like I can speak to the fish so it isn’t bad what he does. We relate over it most times, I have even helped him occasionally.” Stiles smiles at Cora, easing her discomfort. 

 

“How did you and Derek meet, exactly? I never got the full story, after Derek told Laura he refuses to say anything.” Stiles laughs at Erica’s question, shooting Derek and fond and amused look over his shoulder. 

 

“Well, I was in a coffee shop and had my pelt draped over my chair. Derek had knocked it down and politely returned it, I took it as the marriage proposal that it is in selkie tradition, unaware that Derek had not realized despite being a werewolf. I took him on a date and proposed as well but we decided it would be best to take things slow before making things concrete.” Derek blushes as the room laughs, his pack finding it infinitely funny that Derek, the one versed in the most lore and knowledge of the supernatural could miss something so obvious. 

 

“I didn’t know you were a selkie! I was exhausted, I had a long day and didn’t smell anything -”

 

“Anything  _ fishy _ ?” Laura teases, brushing past on her way to the oven with the chicken breasts to bake. 

 

“Oh, shut up.” Stiles’ laughter stands out to Derek’s ears and he feels warm, strong arms wrap around his middle. He feels Stiles’ chin dig into his shoulder, but he doesn’t complain because his presence is warm draping over his spine. 

 

“Are you ashamed of our meeting, Derek? Do you think Fate is cruel in how she brought us together?” Stiles is teasing, he knows the lilt to his voice when he jokes and prods. 

 

“You know I wouldn’t change a thing,” Derek whispers. It’s a futile attempt at privacy in a room full of werewolves and a hellhound, but there’s still something special about it still. He hears the ‘aww’s around them but ignores it in favor of pecking Stiles delicately on the nose. It’s only a few seconds later that Stiles perks up.

 

“My father is here.” Stiles rushes back down the hall and lets his dad in, Stiles returns with a big smile, presenting his father, “Everyone, this is my father, John.” The room greets him, waiting for Laura to hug and scent before casually brushing fingers and hands over the man’s arms and shoulders. Derek had met the man once before, a family dinner that Stiles says was very important to the man if they continued to date. He was sun tanned with smile lines and deeply calloused hands.

 

“It’s lovely to have you here with us, Mr. Stilinski.” Laura tells him, the rest of the pack is taking the now finished food out to the dining room.

 

“Please, call me John. And it’s my pleasure. It was a relief to know my son at least got himself bonded to such a respected pack.” Stiles ducks his head shyly, and clings the the hand Derek offers even as the man laughs at his boyfriend. 

 

“You knew of us before this?” Laura asks, leading the man into the dining room. 

 

“Yes, Claudia knew more, but we knew you were good people. You mother was a great person and Alpha. She came to visit when we got married, blessed her entrance to the territory. She was Stiles’ godmother.”

 

“Really?” Stiles sounds surprised, a little dazed even. Derek gets the idea that his mother isn’t talked about very often. They all sit at the table and no one stops John from continuing as they serve dinner. 

 

“Your mother was invested in making sure she made a good impression with the local pack and well, they hit it off to say the least,” John chuckles, a fond and sad look in his eyes, “ She and Talia became fast friends, always talking about this or that, it helped more that they had you boys to bond over. You were only a few years apart. They wanted you two to meet once Stiles was old enough and Derek had enough control to be gentle.” 

“Der’s always been a softie, I’m sure that wasn’t an issue.” Laura laughs, ignoring the huff of indignantation from Derek. 

 

“Well, your mother wanted to be cautious, never taking unnecessary risks like a good Alpha. It’s a shame you two never got to meet before now, I’m sure you would have hit it off just as well.” John’s eyes are misty when he smiles up at the boys, returned by everyone. 

 

The discussion moves on from there, everything they can think to talk about. Favorites in this or that and what everyone does in their life. Laura talks about the adoption agency she and Andrew are trying to start up for supernatural kids. Cora is still in school, working on a criminal law degree, hoping to work as an attorney. Isaac tells the table that his application for the position at the tech company in downtown was accepted and everyone whoops and congratulates him. 

 

Their cleaning up as the pack and John are settling in for a movie when Stiles pulls Derek aside in the kitchen. He hugs him tight, worming his way as deeply into his chest as he can physically get, practically purring with how Derek’s large arms wrap around him just as tight. 

 

“What’s up, love. Not that I don’t like a good hug, but you’re acting strange.” Derek mumbles into his hair, finishing it with a kiss. 

 

“I love your pack, Der.” Stiles mumbles, lips pressed to his neck like the night he attempted to propose. Derek still shivers and inhales his, ah screw it, his  _ mate’s  _ scent. 

 

“They love you, too.” Derek is rubbing his back, letting a rumble grow deep in his chest hoping to assuage whatever negative feelings may be flashing through Stiles’ mind. In the last few months Derek has been very careful to remind Stiles that he truly cares about him. He doesn’t know where the root of it lies, but Stiles seems to have this deep fear that Derek is doing this of obligation and not genuine interest in the man. It hurt the first time Stiles had brought up the possibility of such a thing and that sting has powered him into finding more and new ways to show Stiles just how much he cares. 

 

“I . .wunamakemmypod.” Stiles mumbles into the skin of his neck, lips not fully forming words and rushed in one breath. 

 

“You’re going to have to speak up, love.” He feels Stiles take a deep breath in the press of their chests and the air across his sensitive skin.

 

“I want to make them a part of my pod,” Stiles says, barely audible to human ears. Derek feels his heart crack with the pure emotion that’s flooding him, his wolf is dancing again. Just like when they first kissed. But apparently Stiles isn’t done dropping bombs because he pulls back enough to make eye contact and opens his beautiful mouth again. “I want you in my pod . . love.” The term of endearment sounds a little stilted coming from Stiles, like he isn’t quite sure he’s using the word right but Derek doesn’t care because his wolf is howling and his mate is in his arms and he’s smiling more tonight then he has in what feels like forever.

 

“Oh my god, would you just kiss him already? We’ve watched the menu screen four times already.” Cora’s shout from the living room causes them both to jump and then laugh before Derek does exactly that. 


End file.
